My Favorite Place
My favorite isn’t far away; in fact, you don’t have to drive at all to get there. I don’t have to count down the days on a calendar until I can go to this special place or open the pages of my scrapbook to get a glimpse of it. When I feel the need to go there, to escape from the small annoyances of daily life, all I have to do is turn the silver gooseneck handle on the white door in my kitchen and step out onto the perfectly spaced slats of wood which form my deck.
Once that door is open, all of the problems, feelings and frustrations that have been weighing me down seem to magically untangle themselves from my mind and float out the door into the fresh air like a balloon released from the tight grip of a child’s hand. As I walk out I feel as though I am walking into another world- my world. A world free of “to do” lists, bills, problems and whining children. Now don’t get me wrong, I love me children and feel truly blessed by A moment to sit down and put me feet up. A moment to close and feel the warmth of the sun of my face. A moment to listen to the beautiful sound of silence.
On a perfect day in my favorite place the breeze blows just enough that you can feel it brush lightly against your face. The sun is bright, but hidden behind the roof, able to peek over just enough to douse the tubs of colorful flowers with its brilliant rays.
Every shade of green can be observed from my favorite place. A brilliant spring green covers the meticulously cared for putting areas. A striking yellow green catches your eye as the tall gangly weeds shift lazily in the wind along the roughs. The blue green reflection of the mighty pines, in the glass like ponds, is simply mesmerizing. Kidney bean shaped areas of soft, flesh colored sand are splattered perfectly thought out the multitude of greens, adding contrasting beauty to the landscape, but also challenges to even the most experienced golfers.
It is so peaceful and quiet in my favorite place. Comforting sounds like the soft whisper of cottonwood leaves dancing in the wind, the scratchy almost simulated sound made by the many fogs sitting on the pond’s edge and the twill of gold breasted Meadow Larks boldly announcing their presence are common. A whippoorwill in the distance, calling for it’s loved ones, is always soothing to the ear.
But then there are also those occasional sounds that nudge you gently back into reality like the hoots and hollers of enthusiastic golfers spending time with good friends or the beckoning from a small voice inside the house.
If you haven’t guessed my favorite place is my own backyard, How fortunate I feel to be able to call this incredible place my home.